Hikers Brigade

Yesterday I went for a hike in one of Florida’s wonderful state parks. Florida’s state parks are diverse, romantic and spectacular. I love them. So, off I go on my hike with hubby and relatives (not from Florida). We wanted to share the awesome beauty of our state.
We head off down a path we have never traveled before. Soon, very soon we end up in a ‘restricted area’? Okay – backtrack. We find another path and that dead-ends in a field of palmettos. Okay – backtrack. Yet another path appears and off we go.
This path takes us into the deep dark swamp land. That black mud doesn't look like quicksand. The feel of black, mucky, yucky mud flowing rapidly over the tops of my new white New Balance sneakers really is an inspiration. Then ever so slowly the black, mucky, yucky, sticky, smelly mud seeps down toward my toes encased in new white sport socks.

Okay - backtrack. Where is that path we usually take? Nothing looks familiar. Is that a good sign or a bad sign? I see a well traveled path.
“Let’s take that,” I say. Off we go into the inner jungles of Florida. Soon, very soon the well traveled path becomes overgrown. The tangle trees make a canopy blocking out the sun and any available light. Poison ivy is everywhere. Sandspurs fly through the air and attack my once white socks. I hear rustling in the underbrush. Do I scream? Is it Bigfoot? Is there a Bigfoot in Florida? There must be I just don’t know what we call him?

The rustling noise comes closer and I see the underbrush moving. Panic sets in. We did not leave an itinerary. No one on this earth knows where we are. Except for Bigfoot and I think he’s hungry. I am frozen to the ground. The brush flattens right before my terrified stiff body. Out crawls a small tortoise and prances right by me. My heart beats regular once again. We trudge on into the wilds of Florida.

Something soft and sticky smacks me in the face. I reach up and wipe away the mess. The thin stringy, sticky mass clings to my face and fingers. Out of the corner of my eye I see a slight movement, it’s big and hairy. A Bigfoot baby for real. A scream is clogged in my throat. Hubby says, “Look at that big spider.”

Second on my frighten me to death list is spiders. Darkness surrounds me and my world slips away. I dream that we have made a great impression on our family not from Florida.